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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27819217">Her Lover and Her Cigarettes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsxleil/pseuds/sunsxleil'>sunsxleil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Merry Christmas, I Love You [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carol (2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:08:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27819217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsxleil/pseuds/sunsxleil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve in Carol and Therese's Madison Avenue apartment, and while everything is fine and dandy, Carol runs out of cigarettes. So, they go out to buy some.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carol Aird/Therese Belivet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Merry Christmas, I Love You [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Her Lover and Her Cigarettes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's Carol season, one and all! Here's a little something from me. Prompt (which is not in the summary) from a little Google search where <a href="https://oneshotsandheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/167716040859/christmas-prompts">this list</a> popped up. Hope you guys enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck.”</p><p>It’s well into Christmas Eve by now with the turkey in the oven and the lasagna cooling on the table. Just like most other apartment and homes in the city, a certain apartment on Madison Avenue is also ready for the arrival of December 25<sup>th</sup> at the end of the hour. The couple’s favorite Billie Holiday song plays on the phonograph, and their tree shines in the corner. All is set, except apparently, for one thing.</p><p>“Carol, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“I’ve run out of cigarettes.” Carol drops the lid of the cigarette case and paces around her lover, scratching her forehead. “Where am I supposed to buy one at this hour?”</p><p>As it is, there’s at least an inch of snow covering the roads, and most, if not all shops have closed. It’s Christmas Eve, after all—who would want to spend the night working?</p><p>“I’m sure we can find a shop.” Therese, Carol’s lover, says, following after Carol. She reaches to turn Carol around and to pull her against her, to which Carol gives an indignant huff. “You can wait a few minutes for a cigarette, can’t you?”</p><p>“That’s <em>if</em> we get to buy one, darling.” And, though Carol pries herself away from Therese, Therese has to bite her lips down to keep herself from smiling too hard. Carol’s brows are knit in the way they do when Carol is about to roll her eyes, wrist flicking away as if to push off the thoughts of any false hope of shops open an hour before Christmas. <em>Curse you</em>, Therese thinks, <em>for looking so lovable even when you’re irritable</em>. “You don’t happen to have any in hiding, do you?”</p><p>“No.” And Carol pouts, oh in that way that only Therese ever sees. Even Abby, to Therese’s surprise, had apparently never seen Carol pout. Not seriously, no; Carol never actually pouts, but then Therese decided to take up the offer of the apartment big enough for two, and they were both surprised to find that Carol was actually quite fond of pouting. Therese laughs, and walks by Carol to pat her hand before squatting in front of the oven to check on the turkey. “Turkey’s almost ready. How much do you bet we won’t get to buy you cigarettes?”</p><p>Therese stands back up to see Carol puffing her hair, eyes narrowed with a smirk on her mouth that would have sent Therese on her knees had this been in their earlier days. But Therese has learned a thing or two after five years, and sometimes Carol prefers a little bit of a challenge.</p><p>“I could put my mouth on other things.” Carol winks, and Therese laughs. Therese kisses her, and there’s a slight quiver there, and <em>oh God</em> Carol and her mouth, but Therese knows that quiver is also there because Carol needs her cigarettes. “We better not be going out an hour before Christmas for nothing.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>There is at least an inch of snow crunching under their boots, and considering the temperature drop, they didn’t even need an excuse not to keep a distance. Therese huddles in against Carol’s thick fur coat, and Carol holds her close. Their gloved hands are intertwined, and whether hidden or not from prying eyes, it did not matter. Though, who would care? Most people would probably prefer ogling their lover at around this time of the night than ogling the two women crossing the street in downtown New York.</p><p>Most of the shops are closed, and the streets are almost completely empty. The sounds of revelry come from floors and floors above, Christmas song singing and phonographs playing <em>Silver Bells</em> from at least three different apartments. It’s Christmas Eve indeed, and there’s nothing like a Christmas with the one you love.</p><p>And some cigarettes.</p><p>“I don’t want to be down here by midnight.” Carol says. “I truly don’t mind being anywhere with you, darling, but I would prefer being a little warmer when Christmas comes.”</p><p>Therese pats Carol’s hand. “We’ll get your cigarettes and have time to spare.” They walk past their fourth closed shop, and by now Carol is getting a little hungry and tired, almost regretful at accepting the challenge to go out. She likes her cigarettes, she really does, but is this hunt really worth it? Besides, a little turkey and lasagna would’ve been a lot more pleasant.</p><p>But Therese is beside her, looking determined to find her a pack of cigarettes. Is this what they mean when they sing of angels heard on high? Therese looks almost beaming, cheeks flushed close to the color of her scarf as she pulls Carol along the sidewalk, and Carol almost wants to kiss her.</p><p>“Here.” Therese says, and Carol looks up. It’s a newspaper stand between two buildings, selling a few newspapers still and, what they came for, some packs of cigarettes. “I’m not sure if they sell what you prefer though.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s alright.” Carol says. “I can always buy more in the morning.” As if they don’t have to regularly replenish their cigarette stash.</p><p>Carol buys two packs of cigarettes and lights one up, letting it fill her lungs as she pulls Therese flush against her. “So, I guess you won, sweetheart.” She looks down at Therese, and perhaps it’s the nostalgia of having met in the cold dregs of December all those years ago, but Carol suddenly wants to kiss her, sweep her off her feet, and ask Therese to marry her. She occasionally has those thoughts, of course, but thinking about it on Christmas Eve feels different. “What will it be?”</p><p>Therese looks up above Carol’s head, and smiles. Carol feels like a schoolgirl, following Therese’s gaze with a rush in her bones that can only come from falling in love. And being in love. And oh, is she so, so, madly in love.</p><p>Above their heads is, would you look at that—</p><p>“Look,” Therese says. “Mistletoe.”</p><p>Carol looks back down at Therese, and takes one last drag of her cigarette. She brushes the hair out of Therese’s face, and with the heel of her palm tilts Therese’s chin up at her. By God, Carol could not ask for more.</p><p>Therese’s eyes are wide, but her lips are expecting. Smiling, almost unsure what they are doing, she parts her lips to speak. Carol beats her to it.</p><p>“I love you.” And Carol almost looks like she is about to cry, as if in disbelief of who is in front of her and who she gets to spend tonight with. And the rest of their lives, really. “I love you.” When Carol says it, it is a whisper, almost wrenched out of her heart by force.</p><p>Therese presses their foreheads together, and Carol wants to ask her. To marry her, to spend forever with her, to break every single impossibility that the world dares put at their table, because nothing is wrong about this, except for the fact that none of the words Carol wants to say are escaping her mouth. But Carol doesn’t need to voice any of them out to know Therese would say yes.</p><p>“I love you, Carol.”</p><p>A single tear is shed between them—and whether it is Carol’s or Therese’s tear, it does not matter—and Carol presses her lips against Therese’s.</p><p>In the distance, roars and cheers abound. Perhaps Christmas Eve has come to a close, and it is finally December the 25<sup>th</sup>.</p><p>When their lips part, and their breaths come out in hefty puffs, no other words could be exchanged between them except for the warm words that Carol whispers on Therese’s lips.</p><p>“Merry Christmas, my angel.</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>The hunt was definitely worth it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The prompt was: "Hey, look. Mistletoe."</p><p>I wrote this and 'edited' it in barely two hours so any and all mistakes are mine. As it is, I don't own the characters, still I wish everyone a happy Carol season, and happy Carolmas! Treat yourselves to watching Carol at least once this month. And stay safe, everyone!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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